Blackmailed
by Kete.Hlin
Summary: Hermione gets a phonecall from a mysterious man asking her to do him a favour: entice and marry a man that has something he wants. Her parents threatened she accepts only to find out the man she has to trick is Draco Malfoy. Rating changed from T to M because of explicit and sexual content in later chapters. -Kete
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a new idea I'm trying out. Please let me know what you think, via review or simply favourite/follow so I know if it's worth continuing. I know what I want to do with this but I have not written it in advance (I'm too impatient for that). Enjoy! (The first chapter is kind of short, sorry)**

Chapter 1

The Phonecall

Hermione pushed the papers on her desk around, trying to find her cellphone. The ringing continued, each trill making her more frantic. Annoyed with herself and the clutter she finally lifted a stack of open files behind her laptop and snatched it up.

"Hello?" She said, then repeated after a moment of silence. "Who is this?" She was just about to assume it was a butt-dial and hang up, somehing that happened more frequently than one might expect, there was a rustle and a distorted voice.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione hesitated. "Yes?"

"I'm calling with a proposition for you."

"What for?" She furrowed her brows, what could a muggle be proposing for her? Without even introducing himself first, or the company he worked for. Which was the most common reason someone called her. The only other people she knew with a cell phone (and her specific number for that matter) were Harry, Ron, Ginny, and her parents.

"Monica and Wendell Wilkins, currently living in Melbourne Australia," the man on the phone said and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "Both working dentists. Suspiciously enough moved to Australia only eight years ago. Funny, almost a year before the Battle at Hogwarts."

"Who are you?" Hermione demanded, holding tightly onto the arm of her desk chair.

"You're not asking the right question, miss Granger."

She grit her teeth. "What do you want?"

"That's better. But before I get to that I want to make sure we understand each other. I have something I want you to do for me and if you don't-"

"Your intentions are very clear. Get to the point."

"Tut tut tut, so bossy," he sighed dramatically. "Fine. I want you to befriend, entice, and eventually marry a man of particular interest to me. He has," here the man paused. "valuable artifacts I wish to acquire."

Hermione scoffed. "Let me guess, these valuables are money?"

"Please, you wound me, I am above such petty things."

Hermione rolled her eyes, this man obviously thought too highly of himself. "Why on earth would I agree to trick someone into marrying me only so you can steal from him? What would that accomplish? Why don't you just hire a theaf?"

"My dear miss Granger, I thought you were smarter than this. You're disappointing me, and I had heard so many great things…"

Hermione stood up from her chair to walk around her office trying to think of a way out of this. Could she retract her parents somehow? Save them? No, he probably had someone watching them, or was watching them himself. It probably wasn't safe but she needed proof that they were actually in danger before agreeing to anything. Now, the second most important was finding out who her blackmailer was. His voice was distorted but he most definitely had a British accent, although she couldn't really specify what region because of the distortion. But he must be a muggle or muggleborn, maybe a half-blood to have extensive knowledge of cellphones and even acquiring her number. She doubted anyone just gave it to him, but she supposed anyone could find it if they wanted. Was her name in the phonebook? She would have to check.

"Try not to hurt my intelligence next time," he said. "It's disappointing that you think so low of me, as if I hadn't checked every other route possible. No, the… valuables I want are heavily guarded and in an impenetrable way except one. Well that's not true, except two but I'm not much for murder myself. I'm not much for physical violence. But battles of wit are my thing."

"Why me?" Hermione asked. "You could have gotten anyone, and probably a lot more people easier to convince and not in need of blackmail."

The man chuckled. "Oh my dear miss Granger, that is exactly why I chose you, among other things. But come, that's a conversation for another time. When are you going to ask for confirmation on your parent's current… climate?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"I'm sure that's the next question on the agenda isn't it? Proof."

She kept silent, annoyed by his gall, annoyed by how he seemed to know what she was going to do, how she thought. Did she know this person? Certainly not, but maybe he knew her.

"Well, no need to worry your pretty little head over that. It's no bluff. I have them on 24-hour surveillance, any contact you have with them will be monitored and anything outside the norm will not be tolerated. Fail, or refuse, you will most definitely regret it."

"I don't see where your proof is in that speech."

"You are exasperating," he said with a sigh. "Fine. Check your email. There is a very creepy picture of your parents through some trees. It's quite unsavory if I do say so myself."

Hermione checked her email on her computer, sure enough there was a picture of her parents tending their garden. She could call someone. Kingsley maybe? Get someone on their side to watch them, see if this blackmailer showed up and they could catch him. Lay a trap maybe?

"I can practically hear the wheels turning in that brilliant head of yours Miss Granger, but trust me when I say, there is no way out of this for you. I've made certain of that. You will get me what I want and I will let your parents go free once you do. That is the deal. Do you agree to the terms?"

Hermione nibbled her lip. This man knew about magic, he knew about the Battle so he had to be magical. A wizard most likely, perhaps a squib? Maybe not, but she couldn't rule that out. How could she agree to this? It was ridiculous.

"Why do I have to marry him?"

There was a pause. "The valuables are protected by blood wards miss Granger. I'm sure you can figure that one out yourself."

Hermione closed her eyes. His words coming back to her: _I'm not much for murder myself_. Blood wards could be activated by the person in question and accessed by any blood relatives, or significant other. So either he would have to maim the person in question and use his blood to get to his treasure, or, the less messy way- have someone on the inside that could work the blood wards.

"Do we have a deal miss Granger?"

Hermione took a breath. "Yes." Her stomach clenched, was she actually doing this? She couldn't risk her parents, not again, not after everything. How hard could it be anyway? Oh Merlin help her.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

"Who is it?" Hermione rushed out. "Who are you forcing me to rob?"

"I will contact you again, miss Granger. With further instructions and to keep tabs on our deal. Good luck and make sure not to disappoint me."

"Who is it?" Hermione almost yelled, feeling nervous at his stalling.

"Draco Malfoy."

The line went dead.

Her phone hit the floor.


	2. Chapter 2 A Confidant

**Author's note: Hello my lovelies! Happy new year! Thank you so much for all of your follows. I feel very humbled and grateful indeed to all of you. Special recognition will go to** _ **thatchick98**_ **who was the first to follow my story, thank you! And another special shoutout to the first favourite-er (I know that's not a word)** _ **Annie0801**_ **. You guys are all amazing. Hopefully I will be able to keep you curious and still reading for a while yet. Your follows and favourites really have fuelled me on to finish this chapter as quick as I could. Enjoy this massive chapter (in my opinion, longer than many I have written before). Tell me what you think (if you feel up to it!).**

Chapter 2

A Confidant

"This is ridiculous. It's stupid!"

After gathering her wits once more after that phone call Hermione, not trusting her phone, went to her floo and went to visit Ginny. She needed someone to talk to about this. And in any case the mystery man hadn't banned her from sharing. So, after rambling to Ginny she made that exclamation, flopping down onto the too-soft and almost lumpy mattress in the bedroom.

"What are you gonna do?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean? I said yes, didn't I?"

"Yeah but you can't possibly go through with it. Hermione, this is Malfoy! Not to mention you'd be committing a crime. You!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me remind you that I have broken a bunch of rules in my life and broken laws—"

"Death Eater laws at the time—"

"I'm not some swot, goody-two shoes okay?"

"I'm not saying that Hermione, but are you saying you're okay with this?"

"Of course I'm not okay with it I'm just saying…" she sighed. "Actually, I have no idea what I'm saying and I have no clue what I'm going to do. He's going to contact me again and if I don't do this… who knows what he will do to my parents?" She shook her head. "I can't really take that chance."

"But… It's Malfoy. That could take years," Ginny said.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence. Am I that hard to like?"

"Of course not Hermione, but Malfoy… he's more stubborn than you and he hated you back in school."

"People change…" Hermione said uncertainly. "I'm sure he took that into account, I mean our dislike of each other is fairly well-known. Ginny what will I do if I fail?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea. Maybe he has some kind of back-up plan?"

"So, either I manage to marry Malfoy, or else he hurts my parents somehow. And if I don't, he'll hurt my parents and Malfoy to get what he wants…. Ugh." Hermione buried her face in her hands.

Ginny rubbed the other's back. "We'll figure out something. And in any case, I'll help you through everything. Whatever you need I'll be here, alright?"

Hermione nodded, face still covered. There was a tap on the window, a tawny owl perched on the windowsill just outside with a letter in her beak. Ginny stood and fetched it, paying the owl for its trouble.

"It's a rental owl," Ginny said, sitting back down and looking at the letter. "Addressed to you."

Hermione took the letter hesitantly, trying to see something that might clue her to the identity of her blackmailer. Unfortunately, her name on the front was written in a computer and printed on the paper. As she opened it, her suspicions were confirmed, the whole letter was typed up in a computer.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked.

"Miss Granger," Hermione began, clearing her throat to steady her own nerves. "Tomorrow's the day. Seize the opportunity and be at 93 Charing Cross Road, inside The Cambridge at 17:30 precisely. Order a drink and stay at the bar. Do not attempt to leave before the target has arrived and if you leave alone there will be consequences." She shook her head. "Ginny, I can't do this."

"I don't think you can back out safely now. Look, we can probably figure this out between the two of us. You need to go tomorrow." Ginny grasped her hands. "I'm here for you through this."

"I don't know. I just don't know. I feel like I need to talk to more people, like Harry… but…"

"But you know he'll freak out and not only ban you from doing this and effectively endangering your parents, but he would also constantly badger you about it and want to know everything. We both remember how obsessed with Malfoy he was in sixth year, we don't need that again. At least, not yet."

Hermione smiled. "You read my mind, Gin."

"If this gets out of hand we can tell him."

"And if by some chance, we can't figure this out and I get in too deep?"

"Then we go to Harry and every other auror we knew for help."

"Right," Hermione said, looking back at the letter in her hand, feeling dread weigh it down.

"When you say get in too deep, you mean…?"

"I mean if I start to break down from stress and guilt because I'm going to be tricking someone that has always hated me into liking me, and all the while know that some mad-man is after him or at least his fortune." She folded the letter back carefully and held on tight, creases forming on the paper. "I think I should get going, before Harry gets home."

Ginny nodded. "Probably best. Keep me updated alright? If he sends you anything else, you tell me. You're not alone in this."

"Thanks Gin." They hugged for longer than usual and then Hermione floo'd back home.

Once home Hermione read and reread the letter over and over staring at the last words she hadn't read aloud to Ginny. At the end of the letter were the words:

 _Flirt.  
Don't disappoint me._

Hermione dragged herself to her bathroom, her feet heavy and barely lifting on the way. Weighed down by the moral dilemma in her mind. Numbly she turned the knob and warm water streamed into her bathtub. Routinely she put the bath bomb in when it was almost full. She peeled off her clothing and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, locking it despite living alone simply out of habit. Touching her hand to the water first and next with a toe she leisurely sank down into the almost steaming water Trying very hard to relax, consciously thinking of calm oceans, relaxing sounds, anything to get her mind off everything. But every other minute the image of a serene beach at sunset would fade and images of her parents being tortured or hurt appeared in their stead. At last, Hermione gave up and accepted it. She would do it, she would try to get to know Malfoy, try to flirt. Merlin, she wasn't even sure if she knew how. Ron had said that her flirting was stilted. But wasn't that just her? She couldn't imagine ever being comfortable with flirting or feeling casual while trying to covertly tell someone you like them without actually saying it. She had never been much for the tip-toeing dance of social convention.

Her mind made up she pushed herself up to drain the water from the tub, watching it all swirl into the drain before turning on her shower and starting on cleaning her hair. If she was really going to do this she needed some sort of plan. Mostly just to ease her mind. Experience had taught her over and over that planning was usually pointless. Especially with so many variables, which always followed humans. Everything else could be predictable and easy to plan. But when it came to other people, they could be so unpredictable. She had no idea what to expect from Malfoy. Not having even seen him much since the battle she wasn't completely sure if he had changed at all. The Daily Prophet had made a few articles about his goings on after the war, just like with her life and pretty much everyone else's. He had spent maybe a week or two in Azkaban after the battle until the Wizengamot could decide what to do with him and then he got on probation, or house arrest. At some point, she recalled seeing a picture of him on the front of the paper when his father died and he had taken over his role as head of the family and even followed in his footsteps, inheriting the Malfoy Apothecary business and keeping it running.

Turning the water off and fetching a towel she decided to look it up, do some research. After drying off she grabbed baggy pyjama pants and a robe over, snuggling in her large armchair where she usually read but now with a stack of old copies of the Prophet. Coming in handy that she kept forgetting to throw them out. She kept a notebook tucked in the cushion and wrote in it if she found something interesting. Noting the day it was published and how it could be relevant. At around 3am Hermione felt thoroughly dirty again despite the shower. Snooping into another person's life like this didn't feel right. Finally setting everything aside and getting to bed she was still awake at 5am. Dozing off here and there but always waking up again she finally got up again when the clock read 11:30. Not wanting to sleep until noon she got up and ready. Although she didn't have to physically show up at work today she would anyway, to have something to do until five. Maybe distract herself.

Soon she hit a snag though, opening her wardrobe she couldn't decide what to wear. The word 'flirt' jumping around the walls of her thoughts, irking her. She didn't feel very sexy, sleep deprived maybe, but not sexy. None of her clothes were very sexy in any case. Sure, she had a few pencil skirts but hardly ever wore them. They weren't very practical, and in any case not the professional look she aimed for at work. A dress might be too much. She did own a few, but they were really fancy. Dresses she had worn at Ministry gatherings and banquets. Sighing she pulled on her favourite jeans and a shirt, then sent Ginny a message on her phone, asking for advice. Her reply was to go shopping after noon and before five. So, Hermione grabbed an apple before flooing in to work.

The comfortable thing about the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was you could do most of your work from home. She didn't have to go to her office every day. She didn't have to push through the crowds of people coming out of the fireplaces at the Ministry in the mornings during the most foot-traffic. Unless there was a special case, something that needed immediate seeing to, she could just stay at home in her comfy little study, doing things at her own pace.

Hermione greeted her co-workers on her way to her booth, although she didn't exactly have her own office it was secluded. Small but private in a way. Everything was as she had left it but feeling paranoid she checked all the drawers on her desk. Nothing out of the ordinary. She finished off some paperwork until she had to meet Ginny. Time flew away from her though and by no time Ginny had come to her office to pick her up. They made their way to Diagon Alley to do some shopping. Because the place she was going to was just outside the Leaky Cauldron at the muggle side it would be a short distance to go after their shopping trip.

Hermione didn't know what she would do without Ginny. The girl somehow managed to be up-beat and positive throughout everything. Hermione couldn't see one piece of clothing that interested her in the shops they entered, but Ginny could find ten dresses, four skirts and six tops for Hermione to try on. Despite her negativity, and overall sullen mood, Hermione did manage to enjoy herself a little bit whenever Ginny made her laugh and snuck in some ridiculous garment here and there for them to laugh at. In the end Ginny had somehow influenced her to buy a cocktail dress, something she never would have bought on her own. Blue and flowing, reminiscent of her periwinkle dress from fourth year. The dress wasn't revealing per ce, but it definitely accommodated her cleavage more than she was used to. Thankfully though, Ginny had been very understanding of Hermione's comfort zone, never taking anything strapless or open-backed or split at the front.

Five o'clock came around in a flash and Hermione was allowed to walk out of the store in the dress and some new shoes Ginny had picked out for her. The heels clicked on the cobblestones as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny took Hermione's clothes and promised to give them back to her tomorrow when she came over. Not to mention she let Hermione borrow her purse, it was small and cute, holding her phone, keys and lipstick that Ginny also recommended she buy. Where would she be without her?

Going their separate ways Hermione went out to the streets of muggle London and walked confidently down the street towards the Cambridge. The outside of the building was fancy, gold letters on black walls, a message board with the menu and wine list outside. It looked too fancy for her to just walk in without any reservation or anything. So, holding tightly to the strap of her purse she stepped in and immediately asked the first waiter she saw about the restroom, quickly saying that her date would be here any second and she hadn't had time to touch up her make-up. The waiter was very sympathetic and walked her to the door to the restroom and wished her good luck.

Fishing some hairpins out of her bag, or Ginny's, she tried to tame her hair, pulling the front and fastening it in the back. Next up was the lipstick. Ripping off the plastic wrapped around it she popped off the lid and screwed it up. It was very red. Steeling her nerves she applied it, hearing Ginny's forceful voice in her head that it would look good. Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and felt like she was lying to herself. This wasn't her. The woman in the mirror, standing there with her hair back, red lipstick and blue dress. This was someone she had never been. A girl that went to bars, that dated, that flirted with men. It wasn't her scene, she didn't feel comfortable. It saddened her to feel so out of place.

She went back out and the clock on the wall above the bar read 17:20. She couldn't back out now. So, going up to the bar she asked for a glass of water first, but then afraid that might not be good enough for his demand of "ordering a drink" she settled for a pint of butterbeer.

Hermione waited.

17:30 came and went.

She sat on the barstool holding her half-finished glass of butterbeer, her second, watching the entrance every three minutes.

At ten minutes past six Hermione wondered if this had only been a test to see if she would do what he asked. Irritated she finished her drink and slammed it on the table. Effectively jolting a young couple beside her. She mumbled a quiet 'sorry' before waving the barkeep over so she could pay for her drinks.

Just as she handed him the muggle money for her drinks a door to her left was opened and three men clad in suits stepped out of a private room, escorted by a waiter. One of them was Draco Malfoy. His suit crease-free and immaculately neat he was the epitome of debonair. Standing tall with his back straight he spoke with the other two men before they departed. Hermione felt frozen in place, then hurriedly shook it off, flagging the bartended back to her.

"Actually, I think I'll have one more."

Daring a glance back to where Malfoy had been she saw that he was now coming to the bar. She quickly turned forward just as the bartender put the glass down in front of her. The mounting nerves in her stomach taking over, she grabbed it and gulped down three large sips of the butterbeer. Liquid courage, she thought, liquid courage.

"Rob," Malfoy said, waving to the bartender in front of her, leaning over the counter to her immediate left. Standing so close to her she could smell his cologne. "Remember to send the check straight to the Frank." He handed the bartender a slip of paper, a banknote. "You have my appointment for next week?"

"Yes, mr Malfoy."

"Good man."

"Cheers," Rob the bartender said and Malfoy nodded his head.

Frantic, thinking that she had to get his attention somehow or this would all be pointless she quickly waved, trying to seem nonchalant while doing it too, and forced her voice to be calm and casual.

"Sorry," she said to the bartender again. "How much is this again?" Hermione couldn't hear his answer though because she was acutely aware that Malfoy had seen her and was now staring. "Thank you."

Why wasn't he saying anything? Hermione sipped her butterbeer, staring straight ahead, not daring to move or breathe really with him standing right there and still staring at her. Was he waiting for her to notice him? Waiting for her to make the first move? Damn him. At last she looked toward him, and making as if she had only been casually looking to the side did a double take.

"Malfoy?" She hoped her acting wasn't as bad as it sounded to her own ears.

"Granger," he acknowledged, and Hermione clearly saw him look her up and down. "Long time no see."

She nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"I do business here once in a while."

"In muggle London?"

He smirked and for a moment his face transformed back into the sixteen-year-old boy that used to taunt her and her friends on a daily basis. "Muggle customers."

"Oh." Feeling awkward she took another sip from her butterbeer, glad that she had ordered a new one so she would have something to do with her hands.

"What are you up to now? Still saving the world with Potter?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not exactly. I work in the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry."

"Oh, right. I remember your free the house-elves epidemic back at school. Spit or stew, was it?"

Hermione pursed her lips, her fingers tightening on the glass. "It was S.P.E.W." she really did try to keep the irritation in her voice minimal. "But yes, it's that kind of work, though not exactly."

He nodded, "Can't imagine you knit many hats when you go to work."

She paused, pushing down the ire in her belly. "No."

"May I sit?" He sat down before she could answer and gestured to Rob the bartender who in no time at all, handed him a glass of what looked like brandy. All without uttering a word, he must come here often.

Hermione supposed she should try to keep the conversation going. "What about you?"

"I'm overseeing my family's apothecary business. Mostly trades and sales. We've expanded though into the muggle world and have more to offer than just wine."

"I didn't know your business involved wine."

"Yes, my family has been making wine for centuries. That's why it's so sought after, because it's so old and valuable." He waved his hand dismissively. "Or some shite like that. I'm not much for that so I extended it to potion making as well, one of my expertise."

Hermione nodded. "Right." Remembering that he had one of the highest marks in potions, always a bit higher than her of course, although she had always thought that was because of Snape's favouritism.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"I already told you," Hermione began.

"No, no, I mean here. Why are you here, now?" Malfoy asked.

"Oh," she said and hesitated. What was she doing here? What could she say she was doing. The only thing she could think of was to say a date, but that would probably scare him off. "Well," she started slowly, gathering her thoughts. "I was supposed to meet someone for a date but…" she looked around for effect. "It seems I have been stood up." A decisive nod of her head and then a big gulp of her butterbeer sold it.

He chuckled. Man it was weird sitting next to Draco Malfoy at a bar and hearing him laugh good-naturedly at something she said. Not at her, but with her. So strange.

"His loss, I'm sure," Malfoy said before downing his drink.

Hermione simply nodded, unsure what to do now or say. Some inkling at the back of her head reminded her of the word _flirt_ , and she realised that what he had just said was a flirtatious line. She should flirt back somehow. First, she needed to figure out how. Malfoy gestured to his glass for a refill and got it.

"Long day?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "No longer than most." He took a generous swig of his drink, sucked air through his teeth before setting the tumbler back down. "But talking to people all day can take its toll. Especially if those people are idiots."

Hermione laughed, it was forced yes, but the sentiment was genuine to an extent. That was still an arrogant thing to say and disrespectful in her opinion. But that wasn't something she should say now.

"Luckily I don't interact with people a lot in my line of work. It's mostly paperwork at the moment for me."

"Lucky you," he said.

"Yes, lucky me." Hermione deliberately kept his gaze for a few more seconds than she should have and then sipped from her butterbeer, keeping eye-contact before she had to lean her head back. She hoped that she wasn't horrible at this flirting thing. It felt like the right thing to do.

"Actually," Malfoy said after taking another swig of his drink. "I was heading out."

"Oh," she said. Thinking that she had ruined this with her "stilted flirting." Maybe she should get advice from Ginny. Not that she had a lot of experience with flirting either. "Alright, well I didn't mean to keep you I was—" she started rambling, but he cut her off.

"Would you like to join me?"

"W-what?" Hermione was so shocked. Was he… no… yes? But what did that mean though? Was there some social subtext that she didn't know about? Maybe, laced into that question, there was a proposal for sex, or a date. Maybe he just wanted to catch up and it was completely innocent. She really needed to get help from someone with experience in this.

His smirk was back. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Hermione, swallowing the lump in her throat managed to croak out a yes before swallowing the rest of her butterbeer. As she stood and reached her hand in her purse he held out his to stop her.

"No, no, it's on me. Rob," he said to the bartender. "Put it on my tab."

"Yes, mr Malfoy."

"You really don't have to do that, I can pay for my own drinks."

"I never said you couldn't."

They exited the place side by side and walked along the sidewalk. Hermione had no idea where they were going and felt the nerves taking hold of her entire being. She felt her legs stiffen up, the cold air outside not helping. Each step was excruciating and not because of her heels (though they did feel uncomfortably tight), but because of her overthinking. Where was he taking her? What would he do once they got there? Could she even trust him? What had she been thinking?

Without noticing he steered her into an alley between two buildings and held out his hand. Hermione jolted from her thoughts, her wide eyes scanning her surroundings, feeling very much like a trapped animal.

Again, he chuckled. "Side-along apparition," was all he said, moving his hand again in front of her for her to take.

Merlin help me, she thought before taking his hand. The air sucked and pulled around them and they were gone.

 **Author's note: Here is a link to the dress, I did a random google search and found a dress I liked and this is what I imagined. Of course you are free to use your own imaginations!**

 **The Cambridge actually exists! I have never been there and only used it as a reference because I don't like making up places and I feel sometimes stories need a feel of authenticity. Of course this is a fiction so the inside of the place is completely made up, and all of these events. ;)** . /restaurants/london/thecambridgecambridgecircuslondon/findus


	3. Chapter 3 Misunderstandings

**Author's note** : Hi there! I want to welcome all these new followers and thank you for your attentions! It's fun to see such positive feedback. Now, I want to address the reviews I got and answer them, you can see them at the end of the chapter. Enjoy

* * *

Chapter 3 Misunderstandings

"Would you like a drink?"

Hermione watched Malfoy saunter to a very fancy looking cupboard in what looked to be an office. Jeez what was she doing? She had willingly gone with Malfoy somewhere, most likely his home, and no one knew she was there. What if he tried to kill her? Okay, Hermione, calm down. You're freaking out over nothing.

Malfoy came back with two tumblers with a smidge of amber liquid in the bottom, although Hermione couldn't remember agreeing to a drink she took the glass from him anyway.

"Thank you. I was actually wondering if—"

Malfoy's hand touched her cheek and his lips on hers. Hermione froze. Until his tongue tried to caress her lip. She dropped her glass to the floor and pushed him off, hard. A horrible clenching in her gut told her she could puke, a clear sign she did not want to be kissing this man. She really really didn't want to be kissed by Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing?" She yelled at him.

"I would think you'd know what kissing is."

"That's not what I mean," Hermione said, looking at him. She wiped her mouth on her arm, she couldn't help it. Her mouth was buzzing and felt… wrong somehow. "Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean why?"

Hermione waved her hands out, gesturing she was pretty clueless.

"You gave me the look."

"What look?"

"The look!" Malfoy set his glass down and waved his arm in her direction. "The I-don't-care-about-the-past-let's-fuck look!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I certainly did NOT give you that look!"

"Then what was all that flirting about?"

"I…" Hermione couldn't really answer that. She had been flirting with him, though hadn't realised this would be the outcome. "That doesn't mean I wanted to come here and… and… do that!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Come on, Granger. You can't tell me you didn't know what I meant by "get out of here". It's very common slang for sex."

"Well… then… I don't go out much so I guess I wouldn't know."

"Apparently not." Malfoy paused, looking at her. "So you… don't want to have sex with me?"

Hermione shook her head firmly. "No. Definitely not." Then she thought better of it. Wasn't that part of it? Or wouldn't it be? She had been blackmailed to marry Malfoy… how would she get away with that without physical contact?

"Wow, that's… actually really bruising my ego right now." Malfoy picked up his drink again and downed it. "Although, maybe this is a sign. Yeah, lay off the women for a bit." He nodded to himself. Then flicked his wand and Hermione's glass flung itself from the floor onto the desk and the mess was cleaned up.

Hermione rubbed at her arm. This really wasn't going very well.

"You're sure?" Malfoy asked, looking at her with a confused expression.

She couldn't help but laugh at him. "Yes, I'm sure." Hermione sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so…"

"No no," Malfoy said, waving her off. "It's fine. I've said worse to you."

Hermione nodded. "That you have." She moved over to a chaise and sat down. "What am I doing?" She leaned her head down onto her hands. Gods she could just die right now from humiliation. There was no way she could do this and no way to keep her parents safe without doing it. But she loathed the man… or at least had a hard time leaving the past in the past.

"No need to break down in my house Granger," Malfoy said, his hand appeared in front of her holding a glass with more alcohol in it. "It doesn't suit you."

Hermione scoffed but took the glass all the same. "And you know what suits me?" She took a sip, it burned her tongue and throat. Firewhiskey. The aftertaste was nice though.

He shrugged and leaned against a bookcase she hadn't noticed in the dark room. "I make it my business to read people. I'm good at that you see. But obviously, you seem to be the exception."

"Nice to know I can still best you."

Now Malfoy scoffed into his glass. "Hardly," he said, before drinking from it. He then stared at the half-empty glass for a bit, tilting it to one side and then the other. "I'm sorry about kissing you, I thought—"

"I know," Hermione said quickly. Hearing him apologise was uncomfortable and somehow so wrong to her. "It's alright, I know I probably lead you on."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. I did lead you on, unwittingly."

"Unwittingly." Malfoy agreed with a smirk and downed his drink.

After a bout of silence Hermione stood up. "I should…"

"Yeah," Malfoy agreed, straightening up.

Hermione looked at him, really looked into his eyes and couldn't get herself to take the step. It was morally wrong to trick Malfoy into liking her so she could save her parents. It was morally right to leave now and try to find a loophole instead. But… although he didn't show her the same malice he used to, he had always been mean. Not only to her but to a lot of people. Obviously to her blackmailer and probably countless others. But who was she to decide how he should pay for his actions? It wasn't theirs to decide. Despite that, she couldn't leave. There was nothing in this entire world she cared more about than her parents.

"Has it really happened that often?" Hermione heard herself say, her tongue taking over while she fought a moral battle with herself.

Malfoy chuckled. "More often than you would think."

"And… what?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You want a play-by-play of my sexual trysts?" His lips tugged up into a smirk. "My my Granger, what a naughty girl you are."

Hermione blushed crimson. "That's not… I wasn't…"

"I'm only teasing you. Unless you really do want to know."

"Well maybe not… in detail," Hermione said, abashed. "I'm just wondering how it works. I mean, do you date them or just—"

"Just," Malfoy said in answer.

"Oh."

"There isn't much interest in that, on either end mind you."

"Why not?"

Malfoy shook his head. "You really want to know?"

Hermione shrugged. "Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

He waved his hand. "Fine, fine. The most common reason is that I'm a fantasy. I was sought after in Hogwarts but because of who I was, and my reputation, girls admired me from afar. I suppose you could say. So, it's appealing to now, play out that 'fantasy', if you will, without any commitment or guilt. On their part." Malfoy lounged down into an armchair and Hermione felt herself lowering back onto the chaise as well to face him.

"That's… actually very interesting. If you look at it from the perspective of human interaction and the effects of nostalgia, how people's minds work—"

"Woah, woah, there Granger. Calm down. It's just sex." He smirked at her.

Hermione huffed. "A lot of feelings and complicated thoughts happen before, during, and after sex Malfoy. Just in case you didn't know that not all people are perverted creeps."

His smirk widened. "Kitty has claws," he said. "I was wondering where you'd run off to."

"What are you talking about Malfoy?"

"You know, the argumentative Granger. The piss-off and I'm-always-right Granger."

"Well I am always right," Hermione said.

"Debatable."

"And you should piss off." Hermione couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous this was. She had to admit it wasn't all that bad, conversing with Malfoy.

"Ahh but this is my home, so technically you're the one that would need to, as you so eloquently put it; piss off."

Hermione fiddled with the skirt of her dress. There were at least three things floating around in her head that she could say. Two would continue their little banter, but both might fall into flirtatious territory. The third would kill the mood completely and end up with her leaving, most likely not to speak with him again.

"I would Malfoy, but you're obviously enjoying my company too much. I don't want to deprive you of my wonderfulness."

Malfoy laughed. Actually threw his head back and laughed. Hermione jumped a little in her seat, surprised at his reaction.

"Obviously," he said, looking at her again.

They kept their gazes locked for what Hermione knew was too long and she had to look away, surveying the room. Now that she was looking she saw it was a study. Full bookshelves flush up against the walls, an unlit fireplace next to them, spacious enough to floo through. A desk nearer the darkened window.

"Who were you meeting?"

"What?" Hermione's gaze moved from the window to his face.

"At the Cambridge, you said you were meeting someone. Not Weasley?"

Hermione shook her head. "No not Ron." She took a deep breath and let it out. "It wasn't anyone special. He asked to meet me for drinks and I said yes. Very unlike me really."

"Why is that?"

Hermione huffed out a small laugh. "I don't really know. I'm just not comfortable going out, it's not who I am. It's not what I enjoy doing. Being surrounded by people that will turn into absolute idiots after drinking too much." She shook her head. Then stopped when she noticed the sly smile on his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, sitting up and placing his empty tumbler on the coffee table between them. "You're cute when you ramble. Never noticed before."

Hermione scoffed. "Please."

"It's amusing to see you rant about the idiocy of others."

"I didn't mean…"

"No, but it's more fun that way."

Malfoy flicked his wand and the fireplace started up beside them, lighting up his face and a particular red stain on his lips. Hermione laughed, having forgotten about her lipstick.

"What?"

"You have something, uhm, right here." She pointed to just above her cupid's bow.

Malfoy swiped with the back of his hand over his mouth and huffed a little. "Well what do you know, we match." He smirked. But it only grew when he looked at her face. "Uh Granger, though I do think this might catch on as a new fashion trend, you might want to lower the… smudge area a little."

"What do you mean?" Hermione picked up her clutch, or Ginny's, and took up a compact. She gasped, her whole cheek was smudged with red lipstick and the back of her hand too. After Malfoy kissed her she had wiped her mouth. Oh, gods that was embarrassing. Hermione conjured up a cloth, wet it a little with the tip of her wand and dabbed at her face. Feeling the heat in her cheeks. She then decided to take all the lipstick off.

Malfoy chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

Mortified, Hermione got up, determined to leave this time. "I'm going to head home now."

He nodded and stood as well, waving his wand to snuff out the flames in the fireplace. "Floo powder is on the mantle."

Hermione held tightly to her purse and took a handful of it, stepping in.

"You know, Granger," Malfoy said, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. "Despite the awkward start and all, I actually enjoyed talking with you."

Hermione thought about it. Their conversation had been pleasant enough. "Me too, Malfoy."

"See you around?" He asked.

Hermione nodded, then said her address, threw the floo powder down and was sucked back to her home.

* * *

 **Here are those review responses!**

From **that1chick98** : Good to know you're excited! Hope I can keep that up ^^  
From **Kennah (guest)** : Thank you sooo much. Being called an "author" is like the best compliment ever, thank you for that confidence boost ^^

From **Black Bishop (guest)** : Just wow, I appreciate your review so much it was wonderful to read and extremely fun to see your thoughts and predictions for the story. Now, no worries, this was definitely not Draco's doing. I also loathe things as cliché as that in stories. Also, if it had been the story could pretty much end in the next chapter x). I love your ideas of the villain and it definitely got me thinking (it almost seemed like you had thought more about it than I had). Your first comment about the "seeming fondness" was hopefully all explained in this chapter, or at least for the most part. Hope you enjoy, and again, thank you so much for this fantastic review!


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